


All About Us

by LunaaHawke



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Cute, Cutesy, First Dance, Fluff, Love, M/M, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 10:03:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5963275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaaHawke/pseuds/LunaaHawke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Take my hand, I'll teach you to dance. I'll spin you around, won't let you fall down. Would you let me lead? You can step on my feet. Give it a try, it'll be alright." -All About Us - He is We. In which Fenris teaches Hawke how to dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All About Us

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for tumblr as a challenge to myself to write more than once a week. I was planning on keeping this to only tumblr, but I really like it and hope everyone enjoys it as much as I did! This particular fic was based on the song All About Us by He Is We.

The fire was burning warm in the hearth, emitting a crackle here and there that only added to the quiet peace that filled the room. Fenris sat on the floor in the corner of the room, his legs outstretched and his nose in a book. Hawke laid sprawled on the floor, outstretched in the opposite direction so his head could rest on Fenris’s leg. Hawke had his eyes closed, trying to squeeze in a few moments of rest while he could. The day had been nearly uneventful—they had only run into a few carta members on their way through Lowtown—but Hawke was still exhausted from the events of the week. After they had disposed of the carta members today, Hawke had pestered Fenris to let him return with him to his mansion, and eventually Fenris had reluctantly agreed.

It turned out that the reason Fenris was so reluctant was because he  had wanted to return home to continue reading where he had left off in one of his books. The sentiment of Fenris reading had made Hawke ecstatic, so he had happily agreed to share a quiet afternoon with his love. Upon returning to the mansion, they had arranged a sort of blanket fort for the two of them to share while Fenris read—the pillows and blankets were spread haphazardly around the couple now. Hawke had decided against reading and had chosen to try to rest instead, which Fenris was more than willing to let him do.

Around an hour passed and the fire was beginning to die, bringing a chill to the room that hadn’t been there before. When it got too cold to bear, Fenris set his book to the side, shifting his body enough to cause Hawke to stir but not enough for him to actually move.

Hawke’s eyes opened slowly. They were clouded at first, but cleared when they found Fenris’s eyes. Fenris grinned down at Hawke, lifting a hand to run his fingers through Hawke’s hair. Hawke smiled at him, mumbling a scratchy, “Good morning.”

Fenris let himself smile before saying, “Good evening, more like. You’re going to have to move, Hawke. It’s grown cold.”

Hawke let out an exasperated sigh and rolled so that his head was no longer stopping Fenris from moving. Fenris stood, kicking a pillow in Hawke’s direction for him to rest his head on, then went to the hearth to add more wood. He had cut enough to last him a week, but that was very nearly a week ago. His supply was running low. He made a mental note to cut some more the next chance he got.

Once the fireplace was amply stocked and the fire was blazing again, Fenris turned to Hawke, who was still trying to wake himself. Fenris shook his head and went to stand over Hawke, offering a hand, “I’d like to do something, Hawke. Get up.”

Hawke looked at Fenris, golden eyes boring into his, before taking his hand. Fenris helped him stand, moving back to give him room but making a note not to drop his hands. Hawke took notice and raised an eyebrow. Fenris was quiet for a moment before he said, “I’d like to dance.”

“Dance?” Hawke asked, his tone bewildered. He usually made sure not to question anything Fenris wished of him, but the request was so unusual coming from Fenris that he couldn’t help it. He didn’t even know that Fenris could dance.

A slight annoyance passed through Fenris’s features, but was replaced quickly by a stiff nod, “Yes, dance Hawke. I take it you know how?”

Hawke paused for a moment, considering. His brows furrowed as he tried to think of a time where he had engaged in a dance with someone. Perhaps he had danced with Bethany or his mother at some point or another, but there was nothing he could recall. Slowly, he shook his head at Fenris, “No, I don’t know how. I never have.”

“Never?” Fenris asked, his eyebrow raising. Hawke nodded, indicating he was telling the truth. Fenris tightened his grip on Hawke’s hands and grinned, “Then, we shall have to remedy that. Are you willing to learn?”

“No. I mean, Maker—yes. Of course I’m willing to learn. I just..” Suddenly Hawke was nervous, stumbling over his words. He dropped Fenris’s hands, taking a step back. What was wrong with him? He could spend all day _fighting_ ; he was graceful enough to dance around a battlefield, avoiding enemy attacks and returning with spells and attacks of his own. But to actually _dance_? And not only that, but to dance with _Fenris_? He was suddenly feeling very shy, “I’ve never danced before and I suppose I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

Fenris offered a reassuring smile, “Hawke, you shall not make a _fool_ of yourself. I would not consider anything you ever did to be foolish. Please,” Fenris said, extending his hand—an invitation. “Let me teach you.”

Hawke studied Fenris, looking from his eager eyes to his outstretched palm. Feeling a little more confident that even if he _did_ make a fool of himself, Fenris would not make him feel a fool, he took Fenris’s outstretched hand. Fenris returned the touch with a smile, pulling Hawke closer to him. They fell together easily, Hawke wrapped his hand around Fenris’s and placed his other on Fenris’s waist. Fenris shook his head, moving Hawke’s hand to his shoulder, “When you learn to dance, I shall let you lead. For now, you shall follow me.”

Hawke nodded, swallowing his tension. What a sight they must be, considering he was far bigger than Fenris. It would look odd to anyone else—the smaller man leading the taller—but it was what they needed at the time. Hawke didn’t mind.

Fenris moved his body closer to Hawke’s so that they were almost touching. He turned his eyes up to Hawke’s, “You may step on my feet, if you like. It’d be good for just practice, until you get the moves down.”

Hawke shook his head, “I apologize in advance for accidentally stepping on your feet, but I won’t learn otherwise.”

Fenris smiled and nodded, then pressed on with their lesson.

* * *

 Hours passed in the first lesson. Hawke grew increasingly more frustrated with himself as time went on, but he was determined to learn. Fenris was patient with him, a feat that Hawke was thankful for. When he had finally learned the bare minimum of what was needed, they decided to call it quits for that day. Hawke returned the next day, though, determined to learn. He wanted to do this for Fenris.

In the middle of their fourth session together, Hawke looked down at Fenris. Hawke was currently attempting to lead the dance, guiding Fenris through the movements as he knew he should. They had just come together when Hawke looked down and asked, “So how do you even know to dance anyway?”

Fenris scoffed, “Perhaps that’s a story for another time.”

“I’ll be eager to hear it, whenever you’re ready.”

They continued the dance for a while longer. When it was finished, Fenris looked to Hawke, “You’ve done well today.”

Hawke beamed, “I’ll take that compliment.”

Fenris smiled back and sat at the table they had pushed to the edge of the room. Hawke sat on the floor next to Fenris’s chair, leaning back against his leg. Fenris had gotten used to Hawke’s close proximity, had even started to crave the touch of the other man on a consistent basis. Hawke was more than willing to oblige, usually finding some way to be touching Fenris—even if it was just leaning against his legs as he was now.

A comfortable silence fell between the men. It was warm that day so there was no fire in the hearth, and soon the quiet became too much for Fenris to stand, “Danarius made me learn to dance.”

Hawke tensed at the name, anger flooding him for the briefest of moments. Though Danarius was dead and there was nothing for the two to worry about, the name still struck a chord with Hawke. He reined in his anger before continuing, “Oh?”

Fenris nodded, “He wanted to use me to get secrets from the other magisters. He taught me to dance, to charm people into adoring me. It was.. I was always good at it. The magisters knew who I was, of course, but a few drinks and flirtatious comments could always get people to talk eventually. In the middle of the dance floor, the magisters believed they were safe, that no one was listening to their dirty secrets. They didn’t even realize that the person they need fear the most was the very person they were spilling their darkness to.”

Hawke was quiet for a moment, thinking about what Fenris had said. Usually if Fenris spoke of anything that regarded Danarius, it was filled with malice—but when he spoke now he seemed to be almost…reminiscent. Happy. Hawke’s hand found a string on his pants that he began to play with as he pressed on, “This sounds like something you enjoyed doing.”

“It was. When I think of Danarius, I get…furious. But, for reasons unknown even to myself, I cannot hate him for teaching me to dance. It has always been something I quite enjoyed. It’s an art, in a way. Something that I can do in my spare time that does not bring destruction.”

Hawke nodded, accepting Fenris’s answer. They fell into a silence again for a long while before Hawke finally stood, offering his hand to Fenris, “Would you care to try again?”

Fenris grinned up at Hawke, “Absolutely.” He stood, taking the mage’s hand and let him lead him to the center of the room once more.

* * *

 It had been a week since their talk, and Hawke had finally learned everything he needed to know about every dance that Fenris knew. Hawke felt proud of himself—he had been a much better dancer than he had ever expected to be. And, what’s more, he had even enjoyed himself. He had been able to spend every day with Fenris this week, letting his lover teach him about something that he was passionate about. It had been a wonderful experience—one that Hawke didn’t quite want to let go of yet.

Upon entering the Hanged Man, Hawke was met with a familiar smell of sweaty men and bad ale—something he’d grown accustomed to here. He found Varric in his room. Isabela was already there, sitting on the edge of the bed. When Hawke entered, she turned her golden eyes to his, “It’s about time you got here. If I had to listen to his dwarf tell me about one more of his stories, I probably would have just died here in his bed.”

Varric chuckled, “That would have made for an interesting sight.”

Hawke smiled, “I’m sorry I’m late, I had some business to attend to.” Before continuing, he peered around the room, making sure that his two friends were _actually_ the only two there. When he confirmed that they were, in fact, alone, he turned to shut the door, “There’s something I need you two to help me with.”

“Oh,” Varric said, his tone excited, “This is going to be good.”

* * *

 Fenris looked at the crumpled paper in his hand. _Meet me at my estate, I wish to discuss something with you._ He sighed, crumpling the paper and putting it back in his pocket. He didn’t understand why Hawke had to be so secretive, he could have just asked him to come later when he saw him earlier that day.

When Fenris arrived at Hawke’s estate, he knocked. When no one answered after a few moments (which was unusual, considering Bodahn was usually at the door before Fenris even finished his second knock), Fenris opened the door and entered the mansion. What he saw made him pause.

The front entryway had banners hanging across the entrance into the main room of the house. Fenris raised an eyebrow, continuing into the main room. When he got there, he saw Varric, Isabella, Merrill, Anders, Carver, Sebastion, Aveline, Donnic—everyone--scattered in spots around the main room. But what drew his attention the most was the piano—black, sleek, elegant—that sat at the edge of the room. The person seated there was someone Fenris didn’t know.

Finally, Fenris cleared his throat. Everyone took notice of him then, turning their gazes to him. Most had mischievous smiles on their faces—they clearly knew something that he didn’t. He raised an eyebrow, “Does anyone want to tell me what’s going on?”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, a figure moved from the door of the library. Fenris’s eyes were instantly drawn to Hawke, standing tall as he walked towards Fenris. Fenris let his eyes wonder down Hawke’s body, then back to his eyes—appreciating every detail of the man he had come to love. Hawke was dressed in one of his nicer sweaters. It was black and hugged his body in a way that always left Fenris wanting to just remove the damned thing. Hawke’s pants were black, as well, giving him a look of elegance that Fenris couldn’t help admiring.

When Hawke was standing just in front of Fenris, Fenris turned his gaze upward, “I didn’t realize I was supposed to be dressing up.”

Hawke shrugged, “I like you just the way you are. You know I love that top on you.”

Fenris was dressed in a simple white sweater, one that was slightly worn around the edges from constant wear. Ever since Hawke had said it was his favorite top on Fenris, Fenris had made it a point to wear it more often.  He wore his usual black pants with it.

Fenris finally raised an eyebrow, glancing around the room, “So are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Hawke smiled, then turned to the man at the piano and nodded. The man began to play a soft melody, one that Fenris recognized but couldn’t place the name. Hawke extended a hand to Fenris, his eyes playful and endearing, “Care to dance, love?”

Fenris scoffed. He couldn’t believe that Hawke had set this all up just to ask him to _dance_. As unbelievable as it was, Fenris found himself placing his hand in Hawke’s, moving his body closer to his.

Everyone in the room was silent, watching, as the pair began to dance. Hawke had taken the lead, his hand resting gently on Fenris’s waist. Fenris was all too aware of everyone’s eyes on them. It was a lot to take in, but as time went on, he felt the world start to melt away. As the dance went on, it was only him and Hawke in the room, their bodies so close that Fenris could smell the faint smell of pine that Hawke always seemed to carry with him. _Maker_ did Fenris love this man.

All too soon, the music began to fade, the song coming to an end. When finally it was done, Hawke pulled Fenris into him, wrapping his strong arms around the elf’s narrow frame. Fenris melted into him, for once allowing the public display of affection without protest. Fenris was always happy with Hawke but right now, _this moment,_ it was something special that he would never forget. Hawke had succeeded in making this night something unforgettable for Fenris, something that he would treasure for the rest of their lives.

“Was this enjoyable?” Fenris heard Hawke whisper in his ear. Fenris closed his eyes, letting this moment etch itself into his memory. This night had been more than enjoyable. While spending the past week with Hawke had been nice in and of itself, the nights had begun to blend together after a while. But here, in this one moment, surrounded by his and Hawke’s friends…Hawke would have a very hard time ever topping this night.

Finally, Fenris shifted so that he could turn his head upwards and press his lips against Hawke’s. Fenris held Hawke there for a moment before pulling back just enough to whisper against his lover’s lips, “Tonight was more enjoyable than you will ever know, Hawke.”

Hawke chuckled and Fenris thought _and_ _there is a sound that I would not mind hearing for the rest of my days._


End file.
